


Birthdays and Valentines

by The_Magic_Rat



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7499631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Magic_Rat/pseuds/The_Magic_Rat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cid spends a lonely birthday on a mountain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthdays and Valentines

“Oooohhh… little Ciddy wants that for his birthday, yes little Ciddy does….” growled Cid, staring hard at something. Tifa’s first response was to look for an airship, but, not seeing one, she instead looked in the direction Cid’s gaze was fixed. Her eyes grew wide at what she saw.

“That’s a gold chocobo!”

It was indeed a gold chocobo. The tag around his ankle told them he had once been someone’s prized bird, but the little ragged collection of females and their equally ragged offspring following after him suggested he had been living wild for some time; at least long enough to gather his own harem. His females were scrawny and tired, and he himself did not look too terribly good. There was very little to eat this close to Icicle Inn, and chocobos either thrived or died in late winter. Given the gold bird had once belonged to someone, chances were he either did not know how to find food in the snow, let the more aggressive wild males bully him, or both. His family was hungry, and, despite the fact that the females were wild birds and extremely wary, he was determined to lead them to where he knew food and safety to be. The male chocobo stopped in Cid’s yard with his family and looked around for danger.

“How are you going to catch him?” asked Tifa.

Cid indicated a large supply shed he had changed into a chocobo barn, now carefully fenced off. 

“I’ve been stashing grains and greens in there for about seven weeks now. They know the food is in there, but that big mangy female with the one eye is too smart. She knows if they _all_ go into the shed to get the feed, I’ll close the gate. So she keeps some of the herd out of the fence.”

“But you only want the big gold male anyway,” said Tifa. “Right?”

“It’s not that simple. If I separate him from his girls he’ll go bananas, and so will they. I’m not crazy about the idea of having to fend off eight pissed-off females.”

“Well it probably won’t be the first time.”

He ignored her. “I just have to hope they’ll finally get hungry enough to all go into the shed.”

Tifa and Cid stood in the snow and watched the enormous golden bird look around warily. He wanted to go in, but the eight female chocobos were uncertain about the situation. They could smell the herbs and greens and hay, and the scent finally proved too much for three of the younger females. They started forward, ignoring the warning calls of their matriarch. They were starving, and so were their chicks. They entered the shed, and once they began to coo to the babies to draw them in to eat, the rest of the pack scrambled into the shed, followed by the gold male. The old matriarch stood in the snow, staring dead at Cid with her one eye, letting him know that she knew what he was up to, and she hated him for it. But finally her own hunger won out, and the sound of her companions feasting was too much to bear. She too went into the shed, and Cid walked to the gate of the paddock and closed it. Tifa applauded, and he bowed.

“So what now?” she asked.

“Just a matter of socializing him and feeding him and seeing if any of his girls are worth keeping or if they’re as bad as they look. You can’t tell a good chocobo from a bad one this late in the winter; they kinda all look like leftover chicken dinners.”

“What will you do with the ones that aren’t any good?” Tifa asked.

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t have the heart to kick them out, and it would just upset the ones I kept. So I guess I’ll just keep them and figure something out when the time comes. I can’t make any decisions about them in their current condition anyway.”

There was a great deal of warking and peeping and noises of excitement from within the shed, especially when the male found a full sack Cid had forgotten to carry out and tore it open. The noise rose to a deafening cacophony as the baby chocobos watched their daddy fling the sack around to make it rain corn.

“Well, Cid, you have done your good deed for the year; you saved a whole family of chocobos.”

“Yeah, well, what man doesn’t want a gigantic gold cock?” said Cid

Tifa rolled her eyes. “Cid you’re terrible. I have to go. It’s going to be dark soon, and it’s going to snow. How long are you going to be stuck up here?”

“I figure about three weeks after my birthday.”

Cid noticed this was the second time he said the word ‘birthday’, and the second time Tifa utterly failed to notice. He watched her get on her snowmobile and depart, grumbling. Since when did Tifa not care about birthdays? What was this shit, anyway? Ah maybe she was just distracted. Cid looked up at the sky, watching the clouds gathering into what would soon be a solid blanket of silver-grey. He had come up to the area to try to recover pieces of his airship The Highwind, but so far he wasn’t having any luck. The ship was lost and he was about to be stuck on a mountain in the middle of a snowstorm. Terrific.

The baby chocobos were warily peeking out of the shed, and Cid crouched down to watch the pint-sized birds. They looked around, blinking and making quiet little sounds, knowing the snow was coming and unwilling to go outside where it would be cold. A few of the adult females were peering out as well, the urge to be away from humans at war with the need to be warm and dry. Eventually deep hay in a secure shelter won out over cold snow, and the babies returned to the shed with the adults. Cid climbed over the fence and walked across the paddock, intending to shut the birds in for the night. He could tell by the sounds coming from the shed that the chocobos seemed to feel captivity with warmth and food was a decided improvement on living wild with cold and starvation. That opinion may change with spring, of course. 

Cid peered into the shed, and saw a bunch of birds gazing back at him, bobbing their heads as they processed the situation. And in the middle of the group was the gold male. He had to be eleven feet tall if he was an inch, with talons that could disembowel virtually any predator that came after him. Three of the females were too busy eating to care that Cid was closing the door, and the babies were already following their hiding instincts and burrowing into the hay for the night. All was well…

At the very last moment, a clawed foot lashed out and nailed him right in the knee. Cid collapsed, swearing, slamming the door shut with more force than he intended. Still swearing, he bolted it closed, then sat in the snow and looked at his leg. He didn’t know how he managed to escape a severe cutting, but the old matriarch had still managed to do him an injury. His knee was screaming in pain, and the way he had fallen ensured he’d hurt his ankle and foot as well. 

Slowly, carefully, Cid straightened his leg, trying to determine the extent of the damage. It wasn’t broken, but tendons and ligaments were burning like fire, and his knee and ankle were already beginning to swell. He packed snow over the limb for a few minutes, closing his eyes, and waiting for the pain to subside a little. Then he checked it over once more, again ensuring it wasn’t broken. Damaged, yes, broken, no. 

Cid cautiously got up, managing to get to the fence and climbing through the rails. He glanced back at the shed, trying to determine if his newly-captured flock was going to break out and make this whole endeavor a complete loss. The sounds coming from within were ones of tranquility; mother birds checking the hay for their own babies, babies telling mama where they were, the deep resonating coos of the male telling everyone to sleep, this place was safe….

And one miserable old one-eyed bitch screaming they were all gonna die. Well at least no one seemed to be paying attention. 

Gently, painfully, Cid dragged himself to the small cabin where he was staying, managing to get inside and close the door just as the first few flakes of snow began to fall. He noticed his answering machine was blinking, indicating he had a message. He pressed the button to play it as he eased himself into a chair and reached for a cigarette.

“This is Cid Highwind, leave a message and if I feel like talking to you, I’ll call back.”

Beeeeeeep.

The voice he heard made him chuckle despite the pain.

“I have no idea how this works. I died thirty years ago; I can’t believe people are forcing me to use modern technology. What do I do?”

“Leave a message!” said Yuffie in the background.

“Fine. Cid? It’s Vincent. I will get you back for making me talk to this thing. Call me if you feel like talking to me.” Then, to Yuffie; “What do I do now?”

“Oh my gawds I can’t believe you, my grandma can work an answering machine. Just hang up!”

Vincent did, leaving Cid giggling himself sick. Poor Vincent. When he died it was all disco balls and platform shoes and transistor radios. Now people were handing him iPads and staring in disbelief when he couldn’t operate them.

He really should marry that ma… where the hell did _that_ thought come from?!

“Gonna have to get some locks for that damn closet door,” he grumbled. “It keeps swinging open.”

***---***

Cid spent the night in pain, his knee, ankle and foot wrapped in bandages and ice packs to keep the swelling down. By morning he was a black and blue mess from his thigh to his toes, and the chocobos were warking their heads off. Slowly, stiffly, in enormous pain, Cid used a walking stick as a crutch and limped out to the yard. Dumping feed and greens into the troughs was a new experience in agony, as was filling the enormous old tub with water to drink. Then he had to use a hoe to reach the bolt on the door, wanting to give himself enough distance to get to the fence, hopefully before the matriarch came tearing out to kill him. 

He drew the lock, and, as the door began to swing open, limped as fast as he could to the fence, escaping through the railings just as the seven babies came tearing out, weeking and squeaking. The fence didn’t stop them at all, and they were soon running all over the yard, getting into anything they could and hopping up to stand on Cid’s shoulders to use him as a lookout post. Then of course Grandma came tearing out, lunging at him through the fence and doing her damnedest to snap his face off for daring to let the baby chocobos stand on him.

He could see getting the birds back into the shed at the end of the day was going to be exciting. 

Cid limped back to the cabin, babies still standing on him. Four of the five hopped off before he reached the cabin, heading back to their mothers, but the fifth stayed with him. As soon as he was in the house and seated, he realized this bird was the smallest and easily the skinniest of the whole batch. As Cid sat on the chair, the baby bird perched on his lap, shivering and gazing at him with enormous blue eyes. The single crest feather poking up from the top of the head like an alien antenna told Cid it was a little boy.

“Let me guess,” said Cid. “You’re the runt and nobody loves you.”

It made a tiny, submissive noise. Whether it was a runt or an orphan, Cid had no idea. Nobody seemed to be calling for him in the yard, and clearly it wasn’t getting as much food and attention as the others. The skinny frame as well as the straggly feathers that dangled from the wings like long fingers called to mind just one person in the world. Sighing, Cid gathered the little cockerel under one arm and forced himself to his feet with the other.

“C’mon, Valentine, let’s get you fed and warm.”

***---***

Days came and went. Cid’s leg was refusing to heal because he wasn’t resting it, and he wasn’t resting it because he now had a family of chocobos to look after, including a nasty old bitch who was determined to kill him – not a very good survival tactic since she was now trapped in a paddock. The other chocobos liked him well enough, and were quickly warming to him as the Bringer of Food. The fact that he now appeared to have a baby of his own only further improved their opinion of him, and Cid would have been enjoying his birds immensely if not for the old female. Then, on the fourth morning, after opening the shed and the usual ensuing stampede of baby birds, the old matriarch came tearing out, determined to not let the babies greet Cid. She grabbed one baby, and, whether she meant to or not, broke its leg. As the baby lay on the ground, screaming its head off in pain, the mother went for the matriarch and there was a sudden explosion of feathers and blood. Cid grabbed up Valentine and backed away as quickly as he was able. He’d never seen chocobos fight, and as the pair went after each other with talon and beak he hoped he never did again. The male herded the rest of the family back into the shed and away from the carnage, while the two hens went at it like gladiators in a ring. At the end of it all, the old female was lying bleeding on the ground, gasping her last, while the younger one trilled sharply to the rest of the area that she was in charge now, and would anyone like a piece of what granny got. 

She then turned her attention to the chick, sitting on the snow and bleeding, shivering from the trauma of the attack. Cid went to get a chocobo first aid kit, knowing it would have everything in it for a baby chocobo’s leg. 

Assuming Mom didn’t do to him what she did to Grandma.

The rest of the family came out as Cid carefully approached the baby. Mama for the moment seemed okay with him being there, and he sat in the snow, picking up the baby bird. Fortunately, the break did not seem bad. First things first – sneaking the baby a sedative so it didn’t scream its tiny head off and get him killed while he was fixing the leg. He was painfully aware he was surrounded by heavily-armed giants as he worked, splinting, taping and plastering the leg. When he let the baby go, it was wobbly and limping, but it was up. His mother led him back to the shed, leaving the rest of the family in the yard, taking the baby to the hay-piles to allow it to hide. Cid then looked to the old matriarch, watching as she sighed out her last breath and her eyes rolled back in her head. He watched the other birds mill around her, checking her out, and Cid decided to leave her lie until after the chocobos were a little more calm. The only way he was going to be able to move her would be to tie a rope around her feet and attach it to his truck, then slowly drag her out. Cid looked to his baby chocobo.

“What about it, Valentine? Wanna drag Grandma into the woods and make the scavengers happy?”

“Cooo….”

“Me too.”

***---***

At the end of the day, the baby chocobo seemed fine, grandma was in the forest feeding the wolves, the rest of the chocobos were in their shed, and Cid was stuck in his chair. Valentine was asleep on his lap, and the only sound was that of the clock on the wall ticking. It was the evening of February 22nd, and no one had called, no one had come over, no one had even sent him so much as a text message. He was alone and depressed and in pain, and as the snow softly fell to cover the blood in the paddock, he tried to call a few friends. Tifa wasn’t home, Barret wasn’t home, Yuffie wasn’t home, Cloud never answered his cell anyway, Vincent was probably staring at his own phone in terror, wondering how to operate it…

In a fit of desperation, he called Reeve…. And got Rufus Shinra.

“What are you doing in Reeve’s house?” Cid asked.

“Correction, darling,” said Rufus. “I am not in Reeve’s house, Reeve is in _my_ house. As for what I am doing, well I’m doing Reeve, though not at the moment. Now what do you want?”

Cid sagged. “Sorry. Didn’t know you two were an item. Is he there?”

“No,” said Rufus, “he’s out at some party with Cloud and that crew. Some little reunion thing. I’m surprised you’re not with them.”

“Oh,” said Cid, feeling his heart break. “Well… thanks Rufus. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, Cid.”

Cid hung up the phone, feeling his heart slowly break into pieces. He hadn’t thought he cared about birthdays, and for the most part he didn’t, but… well this was different. He was alone, he was in agony, he was having to try to look after himself and his birds when he should probably be in a hospital, and… well… it was his birthday…

He picked up a nearby magazine and tore out a page sporting a photo of brilliant flowers. He carefully folded it into a festive little hat, and put it on Valentine’s head. The little bird blinked back at him, awakened from his nap, the hat perched askew on his head. 

“Wanna help me bake a birthday cake?”

“Wooki-woo!”

“Fine. C’mon.”

So Cid made a cake – chocolate spice, his favourite. He let it cool, he frosted it, then he and Valentine each had a piece. By now it was ten-fifteen, and no one had called. Outside it was dark and snowy, and Cid Highwind was alone on his birthday, forgotten by his friends, who were apparently off on their own at a reunion without him. Fully heartbroken by now, Cid stripped down to his shorts, socks and t-shirt to make himself comfortable, and then seated himself in his recliner with a blanket over his lap. He would have preferred to be in his bed, but there was no way he could manage the short flight of stairs leading up to reach it. His injured leg was propped up on an ottoman, and Valentine was already settled down on the blanket, still too skinny to weigh much but growing bigger and stronger by the day. Cid stroked the soft fuzzy baby-feathers. 

“Just you and me, little guy.”

“Cooo…”

“Nighty-night to you too.”

Cid turned out the standing lamp beside the recliner, and closed his eyes, lulled to sleep by the ticking of the clock and the quiet wind outside.

***---***

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Valentine stood up and raised a noise like the terrified alarm of a clown car. Cid’s head flung back as he was awakened violently by a fist hammering the door. He tried to stand up… and nothing happened apart from a vicious jolt of pain down his leg. Cid wasn’t getting up anytime soon.

“What the fuck d’ya want?!” he demanded.

The door opened, and a gigantic furry form appeared, the broad hairy skull looking in his direction. Cid raised an eyebrow.

“C’mon in, I’ll get my cards.”

“Cid?” said the creature.

“Red! Fucking hell I thought you were a wolf, come on in!”

Nanaki entered the house. Valentine upped the squeaking to a level of hysteria Cid had never heard in a chocobo. He drew the blanket over the baby bird to quiet it, then reached up to turn on the lamp. Cid blinked in the light, then glanced at the clock. It read 11:12.

“What are you doing here so late?” Cid asked as Nanaki came to sit beside the chair.

“Well we would have been here earlier but Cloud had to use his fire materia to unblock the road leading up here. It took quite a bit of time.”

“Cloud…?” said Cid. 

Barret was the next to arrive, entering the small house like a wall of humanity. 

“Highwind, clear your damned road!”

“I would if I could! What are you people doing up here?”

“It’s your birthday!”

“Glad somebody remembered!”

“We all remembered,” said Tifa, walking in behind Barret. “It’s called a ‘surprise party’. And it wasn’t supposed to be this late!”

She walked over to Cid and kissed his brow as Cloud walked in, soaking wet and shivering. He began peeling off his waterlogged leathers as Barret built up the fire.

“What happened to you?” asked Cid.

Cloud hung up his dripping clothes. “I forgot that when you melt huge quantities of snow it turns into ice water.”

“Was funny as hell,” said Barret. He walked over to Cid and slapped him on the leg, “Happy birthday Hi…”

Cid screamed. Cid had never screamed in his life, at least not that anyone had ever heard. Barret jumped back. 

“Hey I didn’t hit you THAT hard!”

Cid briefly thought he was going to be sick as he closed his eyes and grit his teeth. Barret drew aside the blanket to expose Cid’s leg, ignoring, for the moment, the ominous lump that retreated further away from him to stare in amazement at the purple, black, blue, and greenish bruise running down the entire limb. 

“Highwind that the hell did you do?”

“Got kicked by a chocobo.”

“Broken?”

“No not broken, but definitely fucked up.”

Tifa walked over and drew a loud gasp of horror as she saw the bruise. “When did that happen?!”

“About twenty minutes after you left.”

“Why didn’t you call us?!”

“Well I could still get around…”

“CID THAT LEG NEEDS SURGERY!”

“Awesome!” said Cid. “I made Tifa yell. Do I get a prize?”

“Here,” said Barret, handing him a mastered “cure” materia. “Congratulations. Now what’s that thing under the covers?”

“My cock!”

Cid drew back the covers slightly, and a very small and worried baby chocobo peeked out, to the squeals and coos of all gathered. Vincent stepped into the cabin just then, he and Yuffie the last to arrive. As Yuffie put gifts on the table, Vincent stared nervously at Barret, Tifa, Cloud, and Nanaki speaking baby-talk to what appeared to be Cid’s crotch.

“You people told me this party wouldn’t get weird,” said Vincent.

“We lied,” said Cloud.

“Look what Cid has!” said Tifa.

“I think I’m afraid to.”

Tifa stepped aside so Vincent could see the little chocobo peeking out from under the blanket covering Cid’s lap.

“Worst venereal disease I ever saw,” he said.

Tifa covered her face with her hands and shook her head as Barret, Cloud and Cid laughed.

“You’re all terrible.”

Reeve darted into the cabin, the last of the group, Cait Sith under his arm. “What’s so funny?” he asked, shutting the door against the wind and snow.

“Cid’s penis has eyes,” said Yuffie.

“Cool!” said Reeve. He looked to Cid, and melted at the sight of the baby chocobo. “That is the most adorable penis I ever saw. The beak is a little worrying though.” 

“Yeah, I have to sand it sometimes before I can…”

“CID!” exclaimed Tifa.

“…otherwise I cut my hand.” 

Cid grinned as he picked up the materia and began using it on his leg. The skinny little bird rose to its feet, eyeing the newcomers with curiosity.

“He’s so thin!” said Tifa. “Oh poor baby birdie…”

“He looks familiar…” said Yuffie.

Heads slowly turned from the baby bird to Vincent and back again.

“I named him Valentine,” said Cid.

Vincent stepped across the room to come look at the little bird, which craned its neck to look up at the tall man.

“Wooki-woo!”

“There is something of a resemblance,” said Tifa. 

Vincent stared at the chocobo. “I deny everything,” he said.

“So what are you doing sitting in the dark in your underwear with a chocobo under a blanket?” asked Yuffie.

“Sleeping!” said Cid. “I didn’t think anyone was coming! I phoned Reeve and got Shinra, and HE told me the whole lot of you were out at a reunion without me!”

Tifa bent down to hug him. “Oh Cid! We would never forget you on your birthday! I’m sorry we were late, but the road was so bad, and then Cloud… sort of… accidentally washed himself down a cliff…”

“We’re sorry if you thought we forgot all about you,” said Yuffie.

“I didn’t care,” said Cid archly, and made a face as Tifa hugged him more tightly.

“Aww poor Cid…”

“I didn’t! Git off me! Lies, all of it.”

Cid made a face of profound annoyance as Barret joined in the hug. Yuffie managed to get hold of the materia and was using it to work on Cid’s leg some more. 

“I’m gonna notice if that’s missing,” Barret said.

“Yeah yeah. Geeze, Cid, what a mess. That looks like it hurt.”

“That’s what I like about you Yuffie – you’re a fucking genius.”

“Of course I am! That’s what I keep – OW!” Yuffie yanked her hand back as Valentine struck at her with his beak. “Keep your pecker under control!”

“That’s it, then,” said Tifa. “The whole night is just going to be one long penis joke.”

“And here we were worried it would be a dull evening,” said Reeve, as Valentine insisted on defending Cid’s thigh from Yuffie, making tiny determined grunting noises with each strike.

“So what is Rufus Shinra doing answering _your_ phone?” asked Barret. 

“Hopefully lounging around in silk pajamas with those adorable little silver reading glasses on his nose,” said Reeve.

“EYEW!” said Yuffie. “You and Shinra?!”

“He’s very sweet,” said Reeve. 

“SWEET?! He tried to gas Tifa!” said Barret.

“No…” said Reeve, “he tried to ensure your safety.”

“And the poison gas was just for fun?” said Tifa. 

Reeve cast her an amused look. “Was it poison? Or just… smelly? And do you think that guard dropped that key by accident? No, Rufus knew he had to get you to a level where you could steal the Highwind and continue your pursuit of Sephiroth. To do that he had to convince Scarlet he was going to let her execute you. You were in no danger, Tifa. At least not until Weapon showed up but that was unforeseen.”

Tifa stared at him, her brown eyes enormous. “You mean he… arranged for us to get the ship?”

“I couldn’t love a murderer,” said Reeve. “He’s many things, and definitely not to be underestimated, but he’s not a murderer.”

“I always thought it was a little suspicious, us getting my ship back like that,” said Cid.

Barret pointed to Reeve. “You were Cait Sith! You led me to the ship!”

Reeve grinned. “Rufus and I would have never let anything happen to you.”

“You conniving bastards!” said Barret heatedly. “You couldn’t just TELL us?!”

Reeve raised an eyebrow, gazing at him as he drew four bottles of wine out of a bag. “Because you really would have believed we were working in your best interest.”

“Point taken,” said Tifa. “But… poor Rufus, working so hard to be good and still being vilified like that. We should do something nice for him. When’s his birthday?”

“Fuck Shinra’s birthday,” said Cid, “mine’s only got about a half hour left!”

“Well you just rest,” said Tifa. “Looks to me like you’ve been working hard enough.”

“Yeah,” said Yuffie, “and no one wants to see you stand up with no pants on.”

“Amen to that,” said Barret. “Cid get your bird under control.”

“WARK!”

“It’s a guard bird,” said Cid, as the turkey-sized chocobo threatened everyone who came near his ‘Mommy’. 

Vincent walked over to Cid, silent as always, and dangled a piece of sliced vegetable before the little creature, waggling the green to catch Valentine’s full attention. Then he walked away, and Valentine hopped off Cid’s lap to chase after Vincent. The roomful of people just stared after him as Vincent led the little bird into the kitchen to feed it treats. Barret voiced his indignity first.

“Just how the hell did Vincent do that?!” he demanded.

“Well we are pretty sure they’re related,” said Cid.

***---***

It was five in the morning. The party had mostly wound down, and as Cloud and Reeve dealt with the chocobos, Barret helped Cid to bed. The materia had helped, but Cid was still in a great deal of pain. As Barret helped Cid to the bedroom, they found a slender form already there, settled deep under the covers, sleeping heavily, almost adamantly. Barret looked at Cid. 

“You want me to move him?”

“Nah,” said Cid. “He’s fine there. Just help me over to the other side of the bed.”

Barret did, followed by Valentine, who popped onto the bed to sleep as well. 

“Night, Cid,” said Barret. “We’ll all be here when you wake up. You just rest that leg. Like Tifa always says – we’re family. Gotta look after each other. Happy birthday.”

Barret left the room, closing the door after himself. Cid moved closer to Vincent, slipping an arm around him and burying his nose in the long black hair. He felt Vincent shift.

“Cid you’re spooning me.”

“Uh huh. It’s my bed. AND my birthday. I get to spoon you every February 22nd.”

“It’s February 23rd.”

“Not my fault you showed up late.” He was aware that Vincent was wearing… something. Nightshirt maybe? Something soft and lightweight and… disturbingly alluring. “You want me to back off?”

“No,” said Vincent quietly.

Cid snuggled a little closer, then kissed the back of Vincent’s neck; a simple gesture of affection he had never done before, and was a little startled at how easily he had done it now. He heard Vincent utter a brief, quiet laugh.

“So am I your birthday gift?”

“No,” said Cid. “Because you were a gift to me the moment we opened the coffin lid.”

Vincent didn’t say anything; likely he wasn’t sure how to respond. But he did reach down to take hold of Cid’s hand and squeeze it. Cid kissed the back of his neck again, and closed his eyes, as Valentine burrowed under the covers to sleep curled up against his back.

Best. Birthday. Ever.


End file.
